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“Sweet pea, it’s going to take more than a few bake sales to repair that roof.”
No doubt about that. Usually, those brought in a few hundred dollars for local charities. They needed several thousand. “You’re right. So, what might work better than a bake sale?”
Her father chuckled. “I’m afraid you’re asking the wrong person for those kinds of ideas.”
Of course!Del needed more than ideas from the old oak tree, she needed a full-blown, Bourbon Falls meeting of the minds. And she knew just which minds to recruit. She hopped off the swing and wrapped her father in a quick hug.
“Thanks, Pops. You’re the best.”
“Not sure what I did, but always glad to help. Just promise me you won’t touch your retirement savings.”
“I promise,” she said, hurrying back to her truck…and praying it wouldn’t come to that.
*
“Two conference callsin one day—what’s the special occasion?”
Will rolled his eyes. “Does your former college roommate really need a reason to call more than once a day?”
An hour after dinner? On a Thursday?“Yes.”
On screen, Will raised his hands in defeat. “All right, you caught me. I do have a reason for the call.”
Of all the evenings he could have picked, why tonight, when Del was due to swing back by for the downed branches? Though they hadn’t planned this as a leisurely visit, Isaac had still been looking forward to it. Looking forward to having more company and actually…peopling. Something, admittedly, he shouldn’t be doing.
Was that why Will had called? Some sixth sense kind of thing?
“You know, you could have just asked me to stay on this morning’s call a little longer. I mean, I wouldn’t want to cut into your evening plans.”
Will’s eyebrows rose briefly. Okay, that’d sounded a little more resentful than he’d meant it to. Though, could anyone blame him? Will was out east, probably living life to its fullest while Isaac was stuck in a sea of short, leafy crops with his life on hold.
Then again, he’d accepted Katrina’s invite to coffee, not Will.
“Listen, I get that you’re frustrated, but remember—you were the one who said keeping you out of sight also helps keep you out of mind.”
“I know, I know. It’s just…” Isaac sighed. “It sucks, man. There’s no way to sugarcoat it.”
“There’s gotta be some perks, doesn’t there? Like no Manhattan noise? No traffic? No getting interrupted at the office by people showing up in your doorway every fifteen minutes?”
“For you, they show up every fifteen. For me, they text every five.” Isaac winked. “Yes, there are a few perks, and I can walk away from my phone as needed. But this glass half full optimism won’t last forever.”
“Nor do I want it to,” Will said. “I may be the face of this company when it comes to bidding work and communicating with clients, but you’re the brains and the brawn inside these walls. You left some big shoes to fill, man. Shoes that don’t fit me so well.”
Great, more guilt. As if spending all afternoon hunting for bids that deviated from their original mission hadn’t been a gut punch enough. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Will. The staff respect you as much as they respect me. Probably more, given the hell my private life has unleashed on the company.”
“They’re still behind you, Isaac. One hundred percent. But, yeah, this arrangement is starting to wear on everyone. Which is why I’m happy to finally say, I think the additional PR expenditures are starting to pay off.”
Now that was the kind of news he’d been waiting to hear. “Really?”
“Yes. I have a private investigator discretely keeping tabs on Katrina. Apparently, she’s been ramping up her online presence by doing a variety of attention-getting schticks: pranks, rants, dares. Her following has been growing exponentially these past several months. Go figure, eh?”
Isaac’s jaw dropped. “So dating me was just a preamble to some online attention grab? How does this woman have any credibility at all?” And how had he been the world’s biggest sucker and allowed himself to be played by someone like that?
“Great question, and an angle I plan to explore thoroughly. If we can discredit her, it’ll make our job of publicly clearing your name that much easier. Of course, we’ll let the experts handle it this time.”
Isaac shuddered. The press had been ruthless last fall. After Katrina publicly threw him under the bus, and he’d unsuccessfully tried to defend himself, the Twitterverse had eaten him alive.
The worst part was, he’d done what he felt was the right thing—defending that elderly couple at the Giant’s Stadium concession stand from a group of drunken hecklers on a bachelorette bender. He had no clue that Katrina recorded his rant afterward to the guys in the bleachers sitting next to them. Jaded after their breakup a few weeks later, she’d trimmed it down so that it sounded instead like he was bashing women in general. Then she plastered the clip all over social media, painting him to be some corporate, misogynist pig.
